


Sugar

by HouseOfCrows



Category: Original Work
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Drama & Romance, F/M, Femdom, Historical Fantasy, Historical Inaccuracy, Light BDSM, Multi, Potential femmslash
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-23
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-04-06 18:32:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 17,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14062929
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HouseOfCrows/pseuds/HouseOfCrows
Summary: Prohibition-Era shenanigans between a lounge singer and the boy who somehow managed to steal her heartSome of the items they use might not have been widely or easily available. I don't give a fuck. This is blatant wish fulfillment of the highest order, and I can do what I like with what belongs to me. If you enjoy it too, so much the better.





	1. Chapter 1

_1\. Hold Me Close And Hold Me Fast_

 

The seedy underbelly of New York pulsed at night. In the city that never sleeps, even during Prohibition, under the never-dying lights, the flash of fast fashion and haute couture elegance merged in one glittering crowd night after night. East Coast royalty mingled with middle class and peasant alike in the sea of glitter and cut glass jewels. Down black streets slick with early rains washing away the snows and ice of a long winter, cars raced past each other in a rush to the next dinner engagement, party, raging and reveling in The Mad Years. 

"Thank you, Joe~" The low, cultured voice lingered like the smoke from a fresh cigarette. "You drive like you make love, so Maisie tells me," she teased, gloved hand lingering on her driver's arm in a teasing show, before slinking towards the opening deep mahogany door of The Garden. Unassuming save in its heavy, impenetrable portal, it swung in on silent hinges at her knock. A slow, sweet smile met the doorman's quiet,   
"Good evening, Ma'am." She slipped through the beginnings of the evening's crowd, and into the bar proper. Glasses lifted at her fur-wrapped entrance, but she waved them away with a laugh and a promise to dazzle them during her own set on stage. Adaline was up now, warming up with the band in a quiet, sweet number as the club's members wandered in from the street out of cars and walking in from uptown. 

The long white fur stole was shrugged higher onto her shoulders, the gleaming silk gown beneath spotless under the gas and electric lights. Finally, she managed to wiggle her way through the crowd, and disappeared into the backstage area. The long heavy curtains that kept most from getting a good look were her salvation now. She could hear the band and Ada's clear contralto voice through the low rumble of the growing crowd, but she had time. The footlights and oceanic roar were all very well and good, but she had an important gift awaiting her arrival. One she didn't intend on waiting for.

~*~

The door creaked open, and shut quietly. He couldn't see anything from behind the thick, soft blindfold, but he knew the sound of Eva's heels crossing her dressing room floor. All hardwood with a few scattered rugs and throws tossed carelessly over furniture, here the lights were dimmer and the effect was less one of opulent decadence, and more intimate refinement. There was the soft wisp of sound that was her fur sliding from her shoulders to the floor, the rustle of silk skirts and then, oh, her warm hand brushing across his cheek.   
The gag was still in place where she had left it, black leather wrapped around a thickly stuffed cotton core- gentle enough for long wear, and large enough to keep him well and truly silent. Her nails traced along his jaw, scritching lightly through his day-old stubble. A quiet whine, much like one a puppy might make, muffled from the gag. Eva laughed softly, bending to brush a kiss across his forehead before pulling away. 

He wanted to move, desperately. Wanted to lean into her touch, follow her wherever she guided, but here he was.... bound and kneeling on the low couch where she'd left him before her dinner invitation had called her away. Nude to the waist, arms bound behind him with scarves, he was hers. There was no denying it. Never had he been more glad, however, that her dressing room door locked from the outside! He tugged against his bonds, feeling the sweet and sure pressure of them against his skin. He'd done it more than once while she was gone, the intervening hours leaving him aching for something other than distant footsteps and music through the walls, for touch beyond the press of velvet cushions beneath his legs and leather and silk- 

"Poor boy," he heard her murmur, cutting through his thoughts from across the room. "Waiting for me so patiently, so willing to suffer for me-" he felt her hands in his hair, pulling him close against her; oh god; bare chest- "So beautiful." Lacquered nails slid and sifted through his hair, soothing away the ache in the base of his neck, massaging slowly across his shoulders. "My sweet boy." He could feel her tugging at the gag, releasing the buckle and sliding it from his mouth. Her hands were there again, warm and gentle, wiping across his lower lip with a quiet laugh. He couldn't help but lean in, to nuzzle into the touch with a quiet moan of appreciation. 

She tilted his head back with one slow, sure pull of his hair. Guiding him back, slipping a hand around his throat to hold him there as she kissed her way across his mouth. Soothing the red marks left behind by the gag with lips and tongue and the gentle sting of teeth. She sucked at his lower lip as she pulled away and he whimpered, unable to stop it. She slapped his cheek lightly, just enough to get his attention; thumb still stroking lightly across his racing pulse.  
"Be good for me, James," She ordered, steel creeping into that low, modulated voice. "I know, I know you want it, sweet boy. But if you aren't good for me, precious, how can I possibly reward you? You do want to please me, don't you...?" 

Those words sank right into his heart, tugging at him. He **did** want to be good. Wanted it more than anything! To see her smile down at him, to make her proud, to impress her. Anything, anything at all, if only he could see it. If only she'd _let him_. Her light, airy laugh told him she saw him, straining towards her touch and whining quietly even without the gag in. He knew better than to talk, better than to beg her attention if she hadn't told him to speak. He _was_ good, he **was**. At least, he always did his best to follow what she told him-

~*~ 

Eva watched her lover with dark eyes, his desperate form never ceasing to cause her own body to betray that iron will. He looked so perfect like this, eyes hidden behind one of her scarves, arms bound in more of the same, right where she'd left him in the middle of their little escapade. She couldn't resist him when he was like this. Yielding to her every whim, soft and willing beneath her touches; even the ones that hurt and stung and bit into his heated flesh. She bent, smooth and sure, to sink her teeth into his neck where it met his shoulder. 

" ** _Please-_** " 

One word, one amid the torrent of sweet sounds he produced for every action of hers. One, and all that collected, methodical action was lost to her. She dragged him close, marking him up just the way he needed. The same way she needed, every moment he wasn't right here, for her to do as she wished with him.

A perfect kiss left behind, a ring of teeth, and a blossoming bruise to be hidden later by his shirt. Her nails sank into his shoulders, holding his writhing body still as she bit and sucked her way across his chest. Tongue teasing at each perfect, rosy nipple in turn before sinking her teeth into the solid muscle of one warm, stinging pectoral. She needed to mark him, somehow. That primal urge to mark her territory, to make sure anyone who saw his body unclothed would know she'd been there first. That he was hers, before he was anyone else's. It mattered in some way she'd never really experienced before. A fire in her blood and a need that howled with every rapid beat of her heart. 

"Hush, sugar, I'm here-" 

He affected her, too, just as surely. For every strike of her hand against him, for every stinging drag of nails across his reddened skin, for every sharp tug of hair and sting of her teeth; there was an answering need in her for him just as unbound and desperate for what she had to offer. And if, after their passion play, she held him closer to her than the night before and laid his tired head against her chest before she went on stage... no one had to know but them. 

 And if her hands lingered on the marks left behind, soothing them with gentle touches and a kiss for every welt and cat scratch across his back, well. She was just taking care of what belonged to her.


	2. Chapter 2

_2\. This Magic Spell You Cast_

 

When Evelyn returned from finishing her set with the band, it was to find James draped across the velvet couch, the blindfold where it had fallen after she'd removed it, and the assorted detritus of their scene left scattered across the floor. She shut the door quietly, locking it from within, before crossing to sit beside him. He looked angelic in his sleep; face smooth, no worries or stresses to cause his brow to crease. His hair lay across the pillows, all shining and copper in the lamplight. Eva could hardly help but to smile, seeing him there, so comfortable and at ease, even after everything they'd done together- It was almost too much to hope for. 

~*~

She'd been tending bar that night, when he came through the door all wide eyes and faded innocence. His hair combed back and silky straight, dressed neatly and with his own unique style. She'd felt the first tug right then and there, but Eva'd never been one to just fall into bed, or a romance. They'd talked over drinks before her set; little enough to do on a Tuesday night; and again after. In the cozy corner table, curtains all-but drawn around them. Turning that cozy corner into their own oasis against the dregs of a crowd and Adaline's smooth contralto voice singing above the jazz band. 

It had taken weeks, nearly months, before she'd spoken up about it. Told him point blank she wasn't sure if she was just being teased or if he'd had nobler intentions than to just trip her into bed and walk right on out again. She felt a fool, for speaking out, and not allowing him to take the lead in that part of their relationship. Having done her best to clarify what she wanted, he did not return for weeks. It was a welcome surprise, then, when he had returned asking for her specifically. Their relationship had only grown from there.

~*~

"James, you _do_ want to be a good boy for me, don't you?" Her voice was like honey, smooth and sweet and slow. He was on his knees in the middle of her bedroom, arms bound behind him, looking up at her in adoring bliss. He managed a nod, her grip on his throat grounding him in the moment. "Then do not move." The order was as unyielding a demand as any she spoke in their private moments. In public, they were nearly equals. The celebrated jazz singer and her boy of the month. And yet, in private it was more than clear who held the reins. The crop held loosely in her right hand tapped against his jaw. "James."

"Yes, Miss."

She watched him blink, watched the clarity come rushing back in, before she accepted his response. He said such sweet things in the moment, that often she found herself needing to hear them when he understood the implications of his words. When she got it, the smile that came at that acquiescence could have outshone the sun in its brightness. She really _did_ enjoy being obeyed. Her hand slid slowly down his throat, her nails dragging across his skin, leaving red marks in their wake.

"Good." She withdrew, and he leaned forward; a half-aborted movement that nearly stole the breath from his lungs when he realized he'd slipped up already. The slap that answered it was enough to sting, to make his eyes water. "Do  _not_ move. You understand?" The leather crop in her hand moved down his cheek to his throat, and down still further to the lingering bruise on his pectoral. "You know I adore decorating you as I please. You're a work of art, James, it's true. But I intend to make you a masterpiece." Her raised brow waited only for his assenting nod; he understood and he would not move again; before she began. 

The crop hit the bruise with a resounding smack, quickly followed by more peppering across his chest and stomach. She smiled when he hissed through his teeth, purred in delight with every pained moan from those perfect lips. She bent to kiss him after one such anguished cry, caressing his cheek as she made him submit to her desire. When she pulled away, his eyes were near as dark as hers, body straining beneath her. 

"Please, Miss. Don't stop?" That shy plea, after the pain that went before it, was enough to earn her teeth set against his ear and her breath against his skin.   
" _Good_. _**Boy.**_ " 

~*~

It stung. That's what cut through the stupor of his submissive state more than anything. It hurt, his skin felt like it was on fire and every where it burned, there were her hands. Pulling at his hair to expose his throat to her teeth, pushing him around to suit her purposes, keeping him there on his knees before her while she bit, pinched, slapped, bit, and marked him according to her desire. Her nails left long scratches down his back and sides, her teeth warm oblong bruises across his skin. The riding crop she wielded with authority and grace, welts and reddened flesh. For every hard strike, soothing words and gentle caresses. For every caress, yet another strike, until he was shaking and pleading.

"- _Please_ , please, Eva, I can't, I _can't_ , please-" And she was there, pulling him into her arms and undoing the rope that bound him.   
"Hush, sugar, I have you. I'm here." When he was freed, he burrowed into her arms, laying his head across her lap as she stroked and soothed. "You did very well for me, James, I'm so terribly proud of you-"

When he lifted his head at her command, she cupped his jaw and kissed him again tenderly. "Thank you, sugar." 

~*~

"-Eva?" His voice was blurred with sleep, and she reached for him, pulling him carefully into her arms.   
"I'm here, darling," she murmured, pressing a kiss to his temple as she leaned back against the back of the couch. "I've got you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Subspace can happen with or without sadomasochistic play. It's hard to know how it will affect a person until they've experienced it, and experienced players do their best to communicate how subspace works for them to any new partners they play with. 
> 
> Being new to this, James wouldn't have much of an idea about that; and as an experienced player, Eva knows to expect some sort of emotional or physical response to her actions. We'll be dealing with the aftermath in the next chapter~


	3. Chapter 3

_3\. When You Kiss Me Heaven Sighs_

 

Their scenes never seemed to affect him until a day or so later. Over the weeks and months together, he'd started to get used to it; expected it. If doubt and discomfort were the price he paid for her attentions, and the emotional upheaval the cost of being hers he was more than willing to pay. Even if it often had unintended and strange consequences. 

~*~

 

When James woke, Eva was missing. Her side of the bed had gone cold, and there was only the thin, grey light of dawn to see by. Her spacious bedroom; bought and paid for by virtue of her East Coast trust fund; was bare of her presence. Scarves and slips, dresses and furs, and other fashionable detritus littered the room. Here a strand of pearls, there a cast off robe flung across a chair; artful in its disarray. But even these marks of her residence within the tall apartment building were not enough for the fear rising in his chest. 

"Eva-?" His voice seemed to echo in the empty room. Nothing living in the space save himself; nude and tucked between soft cotton sheets, flesh awash with the marks of her attention. "Eva." He worried at his lower lip with his teeth, tugging the blankets closer around his shoulders as he sat up. There was the brief flash of sun through sheer, gauzy curtains. The distant sound of cars and voices in the street, music from somewhere. And here he was, alone. The room seemed to yawn around him, opening wide as if to devour its lone inhabitant. 

If you asked, he'd deny the way his eyes burned and pricked at the feeling of loss. The only heat beneath the heavy quilts tossed across the bed was his own, nothing of their shared passion seemed to linger now that her warm voice and gentle touch had gone missing. He curled up in the middle of the bed, stealing the pillow that still bore the scent of her perfume and drawing it tight to his chest. Abandonment settled into his chest, the pit of it hollow and aching. 

He'd never be able to answer, later, if you asked him whether or not he'd drifted back to sleep. His thoughts and wandering dreams seemed to mingle into a tangle of tormented imaginings. Had he dreamed it all? Had something gone wrong...? She'd never not at least left a note behind! 

There were sounds from the hallway, a clatter of heels and a key fumbling in the lock. That brought his head up off the pillows, arms loosening around the silk-covered one clutched to his chest. He rubbed quickly at his eyes, casting about for his own robe. The door to the apartment was flung open, the scent of freshly baked pastries and hot coffee reaching him, a moment before the door shut and the lock slid into place. 

"Eva? Is that.... is that you?" He managed, his voice shaking only a little.   
"Oh!" A muffled curse, the clatter of metal on metal, and then Eva was pushing the bedroom door open wider with her hip, a silver tray in her arms and a concerned smile on her lips. "Oh, darling! I'm terribly sorry, sugar, you weren't awake when I left, and you were sleeping so peacefully, I just thought I'd run out for some breakfast-" She slipped the tray onto the bedside table and sat  next to him. Barely had her fingers left the tray, before he was wrapping his arms around her tight and nuzzling into her embrace.   
"...'m sorry-" he muttered, clinging to her slim form, shoulders shaking. No words to explain the hurt and lost feeling that wouldn't go, even with her sitting right there next to him. 

"Hush, darling, I'm here," She pulled him closer, leaning him back against the pillows and tugging him insistently into her arms. "It can all wait, nothing importan- oh! James, love, you're shaking-" She pressed her lips to his brow, his cheek, and started when she found his cheeks wet with tears and tasting of salt. "....Sugar, are you alright? What's happened?" He shook his head against her shoulder, pulling back only enough to get a good look at her. Black brows knit together, eyes full of warmth and concern. Concern for _him_. 

"I. I'm sorry-" She lifted a hand, gently pressing her fingertips to his lips.  
"No apologies, sugar, you're just fine. I'm here. Now.... what happened?" That assurance, the sure touch and the bit of strength behind the words soothed him, somewhat. He took a shaky, steadying breath and started over.  
"When I woke up, the bed was cold, and you were gone- and I thought. Well, I don't know what I thought, exactly, but that you were gone, and I was alone. And... when I called for you, you didn't answer, so I thought. I th-thought," 

Eva pulled him closer still, stroking through his hair as she cradled him against her.  
"You thought perhaps I was in some accident, or that I might not return. That maybe you'd dreamed it all up somehow, and now you had to face the reality of everything without what you thought was real..." She murmured, trailing kisses across his cheek and jaw as she gently wiped at his tear-stained face. "Well. I was in no accident, perfectly safe. And I'm sure you haven't dreamed me up, sugar, or I wouldn't be here kissing you, salty." She smiled, teasing gently. Rewarded with a rather wet giggle, she brushed her mouth across his in a whisper of a kiss. "I'm real, sugar. I promise. Now... what d'you say we eat before this all goes cold?" 

When they'd finished, there was nothing but crumbs left of the tray and a few bites of pastry left behind. Eva leaned back against the pillows, sipping at her coffee and James lay across her lap, occasionally nuzzling into her stomach and pressing kisses to her hand or wrist. In response, she'd trail her fingers through his hair, or absently pet his cheek. After about twenty minutes of their gentle touches, she beckoned him close.   
"Come here, James. There's some things I need to explain to you, that I should have done, before I played with you so..." He sat up, wrapping his hands around his coffee cup, and nodded. He would listen.

~*~

When she came to the end of her explanation; sub space, sub drop, how emotions played into the things they were doing and how the body tried to right itself after, at war with the heart and the head; he was curled up beside her. Nestled into her arms and asking soft questions while the breeze from the open window played with the curtains. She continued her slow, stroking touches; combing through his hair, caressing his face and shoulders- until finally she sighed. 

"I know it's a bit strange, but I think, maybe, we're a bit strange too, darling. There's others like us, I know... Less the sorts of things we do, and more who. Well, who put the man in charge," She managed a wry smile, and he laughed. "I think perhaps if you're willing, someday I will take you among them, let you see for yourself what sorts of people there are in the world. But for now," She caressed his face, eyes soft and warm, "For now, if you think you can bear it, I'd like to simply keep you for myself." James found himself leaning into the touch, eyes sliding shut with a sigh.   
"Of course, Eva- Whatever you want." 

The kiss she gave him then, was as warm as fire on a winter night, and as sweet as honey.

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

_4\. And Though I Close My Eyes_

 

Their love affair was soon rather well-known in the clubs and lounges where Eva sang. At The Garden, James tended to drink for free, or nearly so. While Eva sashayed and shimmied her way across the stage to jazzy hits and crooned torch songs to the crowd, he watched from the bar. Knowing that, no matter who she appeared to gaze at, or where her eyes might linger, she would find him when the set was over and steal at least one sweet kiss before the crowd swept her off again. It was one such night in mid August; when the city was going mad with the heat, that the club was filled with what remained of the socialites and their followers. While most had disappeared into the hill country or gone on coastal vacations, Eva remained. And where Eva went, so went James.

Eva swept down off the stage, the lights bouncing and glistening against her crystal-beaded gown, her furs long since cast aside. She nodded and smiled, waving to regulars on her way to the bar for a drink. She leaned up against it, all angles and curves beneath the bead-encrusted silk chiffon dress.   
"Ohh~ 's hotter than hell," She purred at the barman, "Give me somethin' cold and sweet, will you, Mickey?" She took the frosty glass the moment he handed it over. Cool lime and mint and the bite of gin went down smooth and sweet, and if her hair was no longer perfect and curls were coming undone around her face, James thought it only made her more beautiful. When she'd downed what remained and left the glass on the bar, she made her apologies to the crowd and headed for the dressing room; ostensibly to change into something more breezy.

~*~

She had James against the wall a breath after the door shut tight behind them, her hand encircling his throat as she kissed him mercilessly. He helped her from the dress, his own tie and shirt not far behind. The clothing lay where it fell in disheveled heaps, the songbird biting down across his jaw to his collarbones, the discarded tie wrapped around one hand for later.  
"Mmm, you taste like honey," she whispered raggedly, shoving him to his knees. He went easily enough, staring up at her with bright eyes made brighter by alcohol and earnest adoration. Eva slid a hand through his damp hair, tugging his head back further, admiring the bruises that dotted his skin. They stood out even against his lightly tanned skin, the summer leaving its mark even beneath linen and light cottons. "Stay." She commanded, crossing the room with quick steps. The corselet was soon removed as well, leaving her bare-legged in just a soft silk brassiere and drawers. It being far too hot for stockings, she'd refused to wear them even if some still found it scandalous. 

The crunch of ice and the splash of champagne was the only sound James heard, back to her as he faced the couch, waiting obediently on his knees. Eva was soon back, champagne coup in her hand, and another filled with ice chips in the other. She sat gracefully on the couch, leaning back against its scrolled side and set the coup of ice beside her. She raised a brow, taking one long drink, draining half the glass before it was set gently on the floor.   
"Come here, James." 

He knew what was expected of him, and he leaned forward, hitting his hands and knees as he slunk forward. Eva purred appreciatively as his shoulders worked, those dark eyes turned on her in a gaze she could feel to the core of her.   
"Mmmm, that's my good boy," she murmured, reaching for him. The black tie slipped across her skin as she unwound it, her boy sitting up on his knees expectantly. He was not disappointed. The tie was looped around his wrists and snugged tight, wrapped around again, and tied off. "You're going to be good for me, aren't you, sugar?" She murmured. It wasn't even a question at this point, not really. They both knew he would do his utmost to obey. 

She leaned back on the couch, swirling the ice around the glass before taking a sip to clear the cup of water. She plucked a piece from it, running it lightly along her jaw, down her throat, and between the swell of her breasts before it had melted away to nothing against her heated skin. She moaned softly, arching into the tingling burn, before reaching for her lover and running her cold fingers through his hair. She dragged him closer, so he could see precisely what she was doing. He whined quietly, nearly panting himself as she picked another piece of ice and followed the opposite path, along the other side of her jaw, lingering as it melted and rivulets ran down her flesh. 

Her fingers tightened in his hair and pulled him close, and he licked across her skin eagerly. It tasted of salt and the cold lingered only a moment between her body and his tongue. She continued, watching him with a teasing smile as more ice chips met their end on her chest, her belly, along the smooth swell of her pale thighs- And everywhere the ice melt ran, there was her much-loved boy, chasing after each drop until the glass had been emptied. 

She tugged his hair sharply, dragging him up for a searing kiss; sliding her tongue between his lips to taste herself- Listening to the sounds he made as he fought to keep up, the soft cry when her teeth met his lower lip, his jaw, the sensitive skin below his ear, the join of throat and shoulder- She held him there, pinned by her will and little else, following the path the ice had taken on his body instead. When she was finished, he was covered in pale lavender bruises and long reddening welts where her nails and dragged across his skin-

He leaned against the couch, his head on her knee, arms still bound before him. He was panting, eyes shut tight against the sting of teeth and the low burning ache of her nails set in his skin. Chest heaving in the now-heated room, desperate for breath and relief in equal measure. She pulled away, untying the knot and letting the tie fall to the ground. She hummed, running her bare toes along his leg to his stomach.   
"Lean back, sugar," she murmured, watching as he braced himself on his hands, shivering in nervous anticipation of whatever she might do next. The drag of leather on his skin was hardly a surprise, but the sharp slap against cheek was. His eyes snapped open, staring up at her in confusion. "I want to see you looking at me," she said huskily, tapping his cheek lightly with the riding crop. "Come now, honey~ You know what I want from you-" 

He did, and he complied. His legs spread, knees beginning to ache, his dark dress pants not yet unbuttoned or otherwise undone. She rested one bare foot lightly against the rising evidence of his arousal, rubbing at it teasingly while the crop slapped and struck across his chest and shoulders. She hummed quietly to herself, enjoying the jump of his muscles and the twitching of his cock beneath the layers of fabric that kept it from her. James whined behind clenched teeth, the burn rising into real pain, muscles straining to keep him upright with every hard smack of the crop against his reddened skin. She laughed softly, loving how he responded, but loving still more to watch the war between his desire to obey, and his ability to endure. 

Just when he was on the verge of desperately begging for it to be over, she stopped, letting the crop fall from her hand as she slipped to her knees, tugging him firmly against her chest as her hand worked quickly. Before he could question her, his pants were undone and her cool hand was snaking under his clothing to wrap lightly around his hard length.   
"Please, ohhh... god, Miss-" He bit at his lower lip, hips arching to her touch as he clung to her. She whispered soft words of encouragement in his ear, praising him as she stroked him quickly.  
"That's it, sugar, such a good boy for me, aren't you darling. Oh~ You made me so proud, taking everything so very, very well for me... you did just how I wanted, honey, I promise, it's alright. You deserve this, don't you, baby-" she kept it up, peppering his cheek and jaw with kisses as her thumb slid wetly around the head of his cock, and he gasped. She nipped at his ear, moaning quietly, loving the whimpering cries of his pain-ridden pleasure. "Yesssss, that's it, love-" 

He jerked in her arms, body tensing and going still as he found his release. It ran over her hand in hot, sticky ropes and spattered across his belly. Eva smiled against his throat, nuzzling at him gently before carefully removing her hand and rose, going to her washbasin and washing her hands quickly before returning with a wet cloth. She kissed him lightly on the mouth, gently cleaning him of the mess.   
"You did so well, darling," She murmured, rolling to her feet to dispose of the rag, and to pour him a drink. She passed him the water and ice, pausing as he drank, before helping him to his feet. "That's it.... just sit for me, darling-" She took the cup, sipping at it herself. James turned shy eyes on her, blushing when her hand brushed his as he took the glass from her to take another drink.   
  
"... you mean it?" he asked softly, uncertain. Eva smiled, brushing the damp curls from his forehead.   
"Of course I meant it, sugar. I love it when you look at me, please don't close your eyes."

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

_Press Me To Your Heart_

 

The long summer dragged on and on, and it seemed as though it would never end. The hustle of the city, the never-ending parties, the shining lights and the scent of summer roses and the taste of champagne. It was, truly, the height of the Mad Years. In the midst of it all, the shimmering heat and the breath of wind off the coast, the heiress songbird found herself in a rather unique predicament. 

~*~

"-But, Mama, you don't understand! No, _of course_ , I know, but.... _Mama!_ " Eva paced the bedroom of her apartment, the phone dangling from her fingers. "Mama! I understand, I know I simply must come home for the wedding, and- Well, of course I wouldn't miss it! But you don't understand, I'm booked solid here! I can't just...." She bit back a growl, her mother's voice from the other end of the line doing little to curb her frustration. "Adaline can't sing _all night every night_ for a _four day_ weekend, Mama! Even _I_ can't do such a thing! And I won't put Court in the position of having to find a new singer for the- _Mama!_ " The scandalized gasp was nearly enough to make James want to snatch the receiver from her hand and talk sense into the woman. The phone call'd been going for near twenty minutes as it was, and it had begun with the same argument they were still hashing through. Some cousin or other was getting married up the coast, in East Egg on the bay, and Eva's presence was, of course, required. The only problem was, some hotel or other was throwing a massive event the weekend of the wedding, and Eva'd been contracted to sing. What with Adaline being the only other to come close in their part of the city, well. It'd gotten heated. 

"Mama! Mama, please, you know it's nothing so untoward as all that, I just sing with the band, it's perfectly respectable." Eva rolled her eyes exaggeratedly at James, who laughed quietly into a pillow. "It's not as though my skirts are above my knees and I'm dancing the night away in some low dance hall or something! The Garden is a perfectly respectable club! Very respected, and _NICE,_ Mama!  Exclusive, even-" She huffed, listening, the gilt rimmed receiver pressed up against her ear. "Well...." She shot a half-panicked look in James' direction. "I suppose there is a fellow.... a very nice one, Mama! No, he's not in the band-" She sighed, settling the phone on the little french end table and leaned against it, the receiver still in her hand- "Yes, Mama. Fine, _fine_ , I'll bring him too! But you and Daddy had better treat him nice, Mama! Yes, yes, yes, Mama, I love you too- Fine! We'll be there!" She replaced the receiver in its cradle and growled at it. Frustration leaking out of practically every pore.  

She sat, huffily, on the chaise and sank down onto it with a disgusted groan.   
"Darling~ We'll be expected at the family estate next weekend for my cousin's wedding. I dearly hope there's nothing taking up too much of your time, or you'll have to reschedule just like I'm going- Court's gonna kill me, but well. What can I do?" she turned her head, looking up at him with a wry smile. "I don't suppose your family's Old Money and you just haven't told me about them yet?" James tugged at the collar of his shirt uncomfortably, shifting his weight where he leaned against the bookcase. "Oh no, James-" She sat up, shocked.

"Well, 's not that I hadn't meant to tell you, Eva, it's only that, well, I just didn't want you to think I was trying to compete with you, 's all." He blushed faintly, scuffing at the rug with his shoe. "And it's not like we're one of the First Families, _we_ certainly didn't come over on the Mayflower!" He coughed discreetly into his hand, shifting again. "My family's only been here a century or two. But, we've got a house in Manhattan, and there's always my aunt down the coast you know, so we're not that bad off. 'Sides, it's not as though I'll get much of anything anyway. They always did like Wesley more than me, and he's off at school and I'm here, so." Eva only raised a black brow, eyes narrowing.  
"So." She knew the story all too well. Whether older or younger, someone had to inherit. And all too often it was Mummy's Dearest. She huffed quietly, and rolled onto her side, stretching lazily. "Well, at any rate~ At least you'll have something in common with the Family, darling, Old Money or New. And won't it just stick them where it hurts to know I've gone and done what even my sister couldn't~" 

~*~

George Courtland was, by all accounts, a likable man. He was not, however, generally inclined to allow his best loved singer off the hook for an entire weekend right as the city was swinging into action. He, however, was little match for Eva's charm and sincerity. Of course he didn't want her to miss her best cousin's wedding! But then she'd signed the contract and how did she intend to make good on it? Oh, but, Court darling, don't you know how young love is? She talked him neatly round every obstacle and done it all with the sweetest look of innocence, he'd even agreed to extend her contract AND give her a raise if only she'd let Adaline take over the hotel event. 

In the end, Eva walked out of the Garden with a renewed and expanded contract, a better paycheck, and gotten Adaline first billing at the biggest event of the season. All in all, she'd call that a success.

~*~

The week flew by in a flurry of shopping, for James and Eva both. There was travelling to think of, the reception to consider, the wedding proper, the after party- and no need to come in looking like the club and dinner set either! By the end of it all, James felt his head spinning; as it was, by the time they got to a cafe in the middle of Fifth Avenue, laden down with bags from designers and less-known boutiques. Eva flagged down the waiter, and ordered for them both in concise, quick French. James occupied himself with removing bags from his arms and handles from around his wrists and tucked them away under the table and on the extra chair. Eva shot him a conciliatory smile, reaching across the table to take his hand in hers. 

"I know it's been a bit of a hard day for you darling, but try to keep being my good boy, won't you? It's only a few more stores and then if you'd like, you can take me to dinner." James ducked his head, watching their joined hands with a twinge of anxiety. Eva had treated him kindly the entire day, from their start at ten all the way through every store on the Avenue it felt like. Resting her hand on his arm, the small of his back, guiding him through meetings with tailors and her dressmaker, not one but _three_ milliners, the glove counter at Bergdorf Goodman- He could remember bits and pieces of the day, but the whirlwind that was Eva on a mission more than made up for his lack of experience. He knew, too, that taking Eva to dinner meant that he'd be her escort; there was no question of whether he'd be allowed to pay. 

"-Darling, have you been listening?" James started, looking up at her with a slightly guilty expression.  
"I'm sorry, Miss, I- I think I missed something-" She only laughed, smiling indulgently.   
"Well, I could hardly expect you to keep track of fashion labels and where we need to go. Just like a man," She purred, "I don't keep you around for your knowledge of fashion, sugar." She squeezed his hand gently. "I only said that Joe's going to meet us with the car in about another two hours. You need a few more things before you'll really be ready, and I'd love to just nip in and find something ready made to travel in. Couture really isn't the look when you're going by car you know, and I'd just hate to arrive in trousers. Mama would kill me," she winked at him slyly, just as the waiter returned. 

A light lunch, given that they were intending to be on their feet again shortly. Coffee for Eva and a fruity concoction Eva said was called a "klondike fizz." It tasted like strawberry and citrus when he sipped it, better than almost anything else in the heat, even with fans going. Salads and fruit seemed to be the order of the day, though there were finger sandwiches too, and a little cheese tray. Eva leaned back in her chair, watching him with the content, predatory eyes of a cat while he ate. 

"So, the suit will be ready in a few days, lucky for us both it just needed to be a tailored and not made up- It'll be good enough for the reception you know, and you've the tux you wore to the New Year's party-" She seemed content enough to ramble, listing off their accomplishments and preparations for the trip. "Mama will scold, I'm sure, but then... she was hoping I'd marry one of the Gardner boys, no doubt~" She rolled her eyes meaningfully. "She was hoping for a Vanderbilt I'm sure, but there's no way... 've no interest in being a staid old statue of a person so my husband can show off," she touched his hand lightly, cup of coffee in the other. "Besides, darling, you know I could never settle down yet." James shared the smile, blushing. They'd never talked about marriage, or even love really, but he knew she didn't plan on getting tied down. The world was too open, and there was too much she wanted from it.

"Of course not, Miss," he murmured softly. "I'd never expect you to." 

~*~

They finished their shopping in another flurry; names like Lanvin and Poiret getting lost in the shuffle of bags, hat boxes, gloves and kerchiefs, stockings and shoes. There was more than enough there for James, too. Pressed shirts and starched collars, polos and socks-   
"Daddy golfs, darling, I'm sure he'll be delighted to teach you if you don't know-" and of course there were cousins who rode, and boated, and swam, and on and on it went. By the end, he wasn't entirely sure how it would all fit in the car, let alone be worn over a four day weekend. But Eva seemed to know more than enough about what she was doing; and even if it had been ages since James had been in what he privately deemed "uptight society," there were enough memories of sisters and cousins going through this same sort of frenzy that it seemed; if not normal, at least some kind of civilized. 

When Joe met them with the car and everything had been put away by the good-natured chauffeur, Eva pulled him close for the ride back to her uptown apartment.   
"Don't worry, darling... I promise, they're going to love you. And if they don't, why! We'll just run away together," she kissed his cheek, a reassuring warmth in her eyes. "I'd like to see New Orleans anyway-" She rested his head on her shoulder, and he inched closer with a quiet sigh. He felt her fingers running lightly through her hair, offering an alternate route to Joe, before settling in with him for the ride home. And if his hand did not stray from hers for the duration, neither of them said anything about it.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And off we go~ If I fuck something up, I don't particularly care to hear about it. This damn story is taking it out of me what with research and fact checking and to be perfectly honest, I'd rather write than stress over minutiae. {Like who's who in upper class society vs who counts as a First Family of New York.} This is a work of historical FICTION, a FANTASY~ *strums uke and wanders off singing* so you can fuckin' bite me and find something else if you think it sucks~

_A World Apart_

 

Packing, to James at least, seemed to take nearly as long as the shopping had. There were clothes to try on, to lay out beside one another and see whether they looked well enough together, accessories to double and triple check- For all her carefree attitudes and outwardly indulgent, laissez-faire mentality, Eva was a shrewd and cunning woman indeed. Determined that her parents would like her latest paramour; though none of the others had gotten to meet Sedgewick and Alexandra Seymour, he'd asked albeit discreetly; she fell to with a will. Hemlines were checked for style and modesty in equal measure, his entire wardrobe gone over with a fine tooth comb for any hint of disrepute; and through it all, Eva was there with advice and guidance on the more minor social niceties that her family would be expecting. 

James, to his credit, did his best to pay attention. But as the lists rambled on; cousins and second cousins, third aunts and friends of the family; it all started to blur together. Finally, the night before their departure, everything seemed to be ready. James latched the large trunk that was to be taken down to the car in the morning, and sighed, fiddling with the buttons of his shirt cuff.   
"-Eva?" he chewed at his lower lip, just staring at the large leather trunk a bit dully. "Your parents aren't going to like me, you know. You and me, we're... real different." 

Eva sat up in bed, eyes narrowing.  
"I'd pretend I didn't hear that, but it's pretty obvious you're feeling uncertain about all this. I would have listened to you before now, if you'd just talked to me." She grabbed one of the silk-encased goose pillows and hugged it to her, scrambling a bit in her attempts to get comfortable. "Well, go on then, honey, let's hear it. Just why do you think my parents aren't going to like you?" Her tone was just this side of curt, her slim fingers digging into the pillow the only real indication of her discomfort and uncertainty. _This is too sudden!_ Eva thought defiantly, waiting for him to speak. _All week long, we've been planning for this, and not a peep out of him! Not even a side-trip to check in at wherever it was he works, had worked? Ooooh, does he even still have a job?_ After all, it wasn't as though they saw each other much outside of the weeknight shows and weekend-long parties! _Oh, and the times he sleeps over, but_ - The seed of doubt had been planted. 

James tugged at his cuffs, straightening them out before he even dared to look up at her; curled up on the white sheets with her pretty lingerie. He was fairly certain it was french, had to be, the way it fit, and all- He forced his concentration back to the point at hand. No sense getting distracted again!   
"Well, y'see..... ah, well-" He tangled his hands together, first in front of him and then behind his back, trying to look a bit more confident and failing miserably. "Eva? I. Well. Y'know when we were out, this week? At the cafe. The one on 5th. Well. Y'see, you'd.... you intimated that I might, you know, come from money....?" He trailed off, hoping she'd get the picture and they could just be done with this whole topic. It felt absurd. Too real and mundane in the midst of all the glamour and elegance of this apartment. She just stared at him, waiting. _Oh, bugger it all!_  "I.... well. I don't." More blank stares. "Come from Money, I mean."

He shifted his weight, waiting on her, and finally Eva sort of shook herself and let the pillow fall to the bed. She tilted her head, confusion written all over her face.   
"Well, of course not, honey! At least, not the sort my family has, any way," She allowed, muttering to herself. Very few people had money like the sort the Seymours had, and even fewer had the deep deep silk-lined pockets of the Gardners or the Vanderbilts. "I mean, I know you're not really Upper East Side...." she trailed off, watching his expression. He twitched. _Oh.... so that's how it is,_  she thought. "Well, how bad is it, then? I mean, your family has a house in the city, don't they, honey?" 

And there it was, the million dollar question. Or, well, really, the hundred dollar question, and wasn't that just how it went? James managed a bit of a smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes.  
"Well.... no?" He offered. "Sort of yes, but. Oh, let me explain it." He sat gingerly on the chaise, watching her with careful eyes. "My grandfather's in banking, one of the real nice ones. He's been in the Financial District for years, and he's done real well at it. But my dad's a bit of a bastard, and well, my grandfather, he didn't like who he picked out to marry-" the thin veneer of breeding had started to fall from his voice, and a bit of something... decidedly Midwestern had started to creep out. James looked down at his hands, twisting them around each other until they were a proper knot- "Dad decided he didn't care about any inheritance, and moved us all out west. So.... 's not us who've got the house, it's my Granda, and 'm not really the Nice Sort, 'm just.... well, the grandkid. But Granda said that if I'd just learn alongside him, 'n do what I could, well, maybe I'd make something of myself. Make up for what Dad's done somehow. It's Dad's sister that's got the house on the coast, 'n sometimes she lets me go out there when it's too hot for words, here... but. Well, 's not _mine_ , and.... somehow, well. Somehow, I think that might be important to your folks-" 

Eva held the pillow tight in shock. Oh. **Oh.** _Oh. Well. That definitely explains some things-_ Her small red mouth worked, but nothing came out for a moment.   
"I...can't rightly say I'm surprised, sugar," she said, still stunned. There was a difference, and it was enough of one to be noted! "It. Well, honey, it does explain a few things-" Like why she'd bought his tuxedo for the New Year's party, and why he always seemed a little uncomfortable at being her Kept boy, but so intensely grateful for every little thing that came his way. The shock of it when she surprised him with things, the shy look in his eyes when he accepted it; like he couldn't quite tell her no, but didn't think he quite deserved it either. She slid down off the bed, leaving the goose pillow behind and moving across the floor to sit next to him on the chaise. 

"So... what do you want to do about it then, s-.... James?" She asked quietly, not quite daring to reach for his hand. She wanted to, more than anything, but he just seemed so distant, and closed off, it was a struggle to even get a good look at him! "I can always ring up to Sands Point in the morning, and let my parents know it'll be just me for the wedding..." She trailed off, waiting for him to acknowledge her. It came as yet another surprise to see tears pricking at his eyes when he finally looked up, those hazel eyes brimming.  
"Eva-" 

She could never tell, afterward, who moved first. But he was in her arms, and she was holding him tight; stroking his hair and whispering soft reassurances and how it'd all work itself out. And besides, hadn't he enjoyed the shopping and the preparations? It could be real fun to go on a roadtrip together, even if it was only up the coast a bit to silly old Sands Point. Besides, she did like being with him, and well, she'd meant what she said about New Orleans! And wouldn't that be a fun trip, too? Eva was only a bit mollified when he'd turned his slightly teary face back to hers and he kissed her sweetly; if tasting a mostly like salt.   
"If it doesn't matter to you, Miss, well... I suppose. I suppose it won't matter to me, then!" Eva kissed his forehead gently, before taking his hand and pulling him towards bed and sleep.  
"That's the spirit!" The heiress said bravely, determined that he'd have no reason to doubt from her, at least! "Besides... afterwards, you can introduce me to your grandfather! I'm sure he'll be pleased that you've got better taste than your father, at any rate~"  
  
The joke got the intended laugh, and James fell asleep in in the arms of the girl he'd maybe, just maybe, started to fall for. 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm putting Eva and James up at the Ansonia, as it was built in the correct time period and did serve as an Apartment Hotel in the Upper West Side. Close enough to 5th, and also close enough to Harlem and the general area of the city jazz clubs were most popular. I'm not pinning The Garden to any one bit of the city, and to be honest, I've been staring at maps trying to remember where things are for about three hours now. I'm over it~ All you need to know is it's around 30-ish miles to Sands Point/East Egg, and we know the historical speed limit was around 20mph. So let's put the travel time at between 1hr 30min, and 3hrs. We'll also call it a leisurely drive, since tbh I can't be assed to deal with speeding and whether or not there are traffic cops in this specific area, ok? Currently, it takes something like an hour if you're not fighting traffic, and that's with highway speeds of 60mph. 
> 
> Thinking about this has given me a headache and it's 4:30a.


	7. Chapter 7

_Where Roses Bloom_

 

The next day dawned bright and mostly sunny, even if neither Eva nor James were particularly aware of it. He woke to the feel of her wrapped around him, fingers twining in his hair as she pulled him close; exploring his body with lips and tongue and teeth. She purred contently when he responded favorably, taking charge for a few brief, sensual moments before she flipped them, and showed him what she really wanted-

~*~

By the time she'd finished with him, it was nearly eleven. She directed him to the shower while she got breakfast; more coffee and pastries from the French bakery down the street; and then she freshened up while he ate. In the end, they finally left the apartment at near noon; Eva in a soft peach dress of linen and lace, and James in a lightweight, white and gold suit. James fiddled with the cuffs for the fifth time as they strode from the lobby out into the sun and scattered clouds of New York in summer. Joe was waiting for them, leaning up against one of the sleekest cars James had ever seen. Cherry red and deep black, he didn't recognize it until Joe removed himself from the hood. It was a Packard, and a very, very nice one at that. While James stared and didn't quite dare touch, Eva spoke to the driver. 

"Well, Ms Seymour, 's all gassed up and ready for you! Shouldn't even need to stop between here 'n the Sands unless you want to-" James paid them no mind, much more interested in the machinery than in the more minute details of their trip. He heard Eva laugh, and turned, face reddening a little.  
"She's pretty, nearly as pretty as you, Eva," he fidgeted, and she reached for his hand, squeezing it lightly.   
"Oh go on and ogle the car, sugar~" the singer purred, nudging him playfully with her shoulder. "You'll have plenty of time to experience all she can offer as soon as we start." She made for the driver's side, and James stared, shocked.

"Ah.... E-Eva? Isn't Joe-" The driver shook his head, jabbing a thumb at the man standing with him.  
"Nah~ Ms Seymour can go up and see her family all she wants, but she knows better'n to ask me along! I'll be riding on home to Maisie with Sam here. No reason for gallivantin all over creation when you've got a good lady waitin' on you at home." Sam only shrugged, and took the key from Eva to go pick up the baggage and bring it all down. When the collection of boxes, bags, and trunk were properly stored in the brilliantly polished red and black car, James waited for Eva to open the door; still too stunned by the sudden turn of events to do much more than that. Joe said something quiet to Eva, and she laughed again, a bright shimmering thing like her music.

"Oh, come on now, honey, you know he's never seen me drive!" She teased, handing James into the car and shutting the door firmly. "Besides~ He doesn't know what sort of driver I am, either!" She laughed impishly, sliding two crisp bills into Joe's breast pocket before sliding up into the driver's seat and waving at them both. "We'll see you on Monday, honey, unless Mama keeps me longer!" And with that parting shot, they were on their way. 

~*~

The drive was long, but pleasant all the same. James was left with the impression of dappled sun and shade, interspersed with brief glimpses of the Sound as they neared their destination. He sent a few sidelong glances Eva's direction along the way, but neither of them spoke much. It was a little too real, and a little too close to a real relationship than anything they'd discussed til now. Finally, James broke the silence. 

"...your family, huh?" He offered, a bit lamely. "I wasn't expecting you'd ever want me to meet them, Miss." He reverted to their agreed upon roles out of some strange mix of deference and need to reorient himself. He looked down at his hands, very consciously trying not to tug at the suit or wrinkle it unduly. "I didn't think you thought so highly of me." Eva smiled a bit grimly, her rouged up lips thinning.   
"Oh, it's not just that I think highly of you," she said quietly, gloved hands firm on the wheel. "It's that I think you'll actually survive the weekend, James." The name wasn't an accident. This wasn't a scene, or anything close to their bedroom games. This was... serious. It deserved it's due, if for no other reason than she felt James deserved it. She spared him a look, her eyes dark. "I don't take flings home to Mama, and I definitely don't subject them to my father." The heiress redirected her gaze to the road, grip tightening slightly on the wheel of the car. 

"Look, James. Maybe we come from different worlds, but you fit. I don't quite know why, but you fit, and I like that about you." She managed a smile, if a bit strained. "I like you generally, really. I wouldn't have kept you around so long if I didn't, you know? It's only... well. I understand if you'd rather not talk about this sort of thing, futures and what not. But I wanted you to know that much, at least. That... you're not just a fling. Not if you don't want to be." 

James nodded, slowly, turning that over. It was as close as they'd gotten to discussing their feelings in almost two months of seeing each other pretty non stop.   
"I'll keep it mind," he murmured, and for a brief moment, Eva's hand found his. For now, it was enough. 

~*~

The Seymour's Sands Point estate was even larger and more stately than he'd expected. A broad, tree-lined avenue greeted them first, which then gave way to wrought iron gates and a curved grand drive, and large sparkling fountain. The house rose on limestone columns, a three storied affair with balconies, a white exterior, and pale golden columns and stone work. It was, in a word, _Stately_. In his own mind, there was no question of his belonging in such a place. But Eva stepped from the vehicle with aplomb, and handed him down out of it with a conspiratorial smirk. She helped him brush the dust of the road from his shoulders and took his hand.   
"No turning back now~" She teased, before practically skipping up the steps to press the bell. 

Before she got the chance, the door swung open to reveal a tall, broad man in formal wear even more staid than Eva's own.   
"Ms Seymour," He bowed, opening the door wider to reveal the dark wood and marble floor of the foyer. Eva strode past him, and into the comfortable interior.  
"Ah, hello there, Simmons!" She shrugged out of her jacket and passed it to him, beckoning to James. "Come along, honey, you don't want to keep Daddy waiting." James winced, and strode quickly forward to catch up.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listening to J'envoie Valser on repeat and writing furiously... Let's see how far we can get tonight!

_And When You Speak_

The door closing behind them felt, to James, like some sort of death knell. It echoed through the foyer as he followed Eva down the halls to her father's study. She held up a hand, stalling him at the door while she knocked lightly at the door.  
"Enter." The voice from within was strong and stern, and almost James could understand where Eva might have gotten her own air of authority. She pushed the door open, and entered on light feet.   
"Hello, Daddy~" James had the impression of tall windows and dark wood, bookshelves that seemed as though they might go on for ages, and deep leather furniture. This was undoubtedly the sanctuary of a family patriarch, and one with means. He paused in the door, feeling terribly out of place, even as Sedgewick rose to greet his older daughter.   
"Evelyn, welcome home." He did not embrace her, just rested a heavy hand on her shoulder. "Your mother will be so pleased you're here," he looked up, noticing James for the first time. His eyes narrowed, and Eva squeezed her father's arm lightly. "....I suppose this is your young man." 

James heart froze in his chest, but Eva was quick to save him from speaking.  
"Oh, this is James, Daddy~ James Allen. His Grandfather is in Financials, you know, a perfectly _respectable_ family!" Wick's eyes narrowed further, appraising the youth standing in front of him, his hands tangling behind his back. James managed a slightly scared smile, hands tightening briefly before he offered one to Wick.   
"It's an honor to finally meet you, sir; Eva's a true lady."   
"Hm." He took the proffered hand, content in the firm handshake of the stripling his daughter seemed to have some sort of feeling for. "I suppose if Evelyn likes you, I should at least get to know you. Do you drink?" Wick was already crossing to a side table, pulling out a bottle of what appeared to be scotch. "Of course you do." He poured two drinks and passed one to James. "Evelyn, sweetheart, you should go find your mother. I promise to return him to you in one piece." Eva sent an apologetic smile James' way, before moving quickly for the door.   
"I'll see you a little later, honey," she murmured, "Be nice, Daddy!" 

James took the drink, and swallowed.  
"So. Just what _is_ your relationship to my daughter?" 

~*~

Alexandra was sitting out on the veranda, lazing on one of the many wicker wingback chaise lounges that dotted the space. She looked up as Eva approached, a slow languid smile crossing her lips.   
"Evelyn, darling," She reached out a hand, drawing her daughter close. "I'm so terribly glad you made it~" Eva smiled in turn, taking note of the bottle half-hidden behind a potted plant and the glass on the floor beside it. _Never let it be said prohibition kept mother from drinking_ , she sighed to herself. _Still, at least she's being pleasant_.   
"Hello, Mama!" She sat on the arm of the chaise, and bent to kiss her mother's cheek. "So, who's arrived already?" 

~*~

James shifted his weight, sinking deeper into the leather armchair, glass in hand. Wick leaned back against the desk, draining what remained in the crystal tumbler before setting it aside. James swallowed again, hand tightening around the glass.   
"Well, sir. Ah-" He breathed in, looking up to meet Sedgwick's eyes. "Mr Seymour, sir, I'm quite fond of Evelyn. She's a wonderful woman, and she's always been very classy," his mind unhelpfully supplied a picture of Eva bending over him, dressed in little more than French lingerie and the pearl-handled leather riding crop in her elegant hands used with impunity. "She's the kind of lady who knows what she wants, and I admire that about her," murmured orders, the nights she'd played him like a harp, left her mark in his skin so he'd feel her presence for days after- "She's left quite the impression on me, sir." He swirled the whiskey in his glass, chewing at his lower lip.

"I know I'm not nearly good enough for her," he admitted quietly. "My grandfather's name isn't near the sort of family she should consider joining, but," he met her father's tense gaze, shoulders straightening. "I think I can make her happy." Down pillows, jelly-filled pastries, coffee in the mornings with sunlight pouring through the windows- Eva's laughing, smiling face above him, her lips on his tasting of cherry and cream. "I know I'd like nothing more than to spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of her." 

Sedgewick poured himself another drink, lifting his glass in a mock toast.   
"Well, you certainly know how to say the right things. So. Who precisely is your grandfather, and what sort of future do you think you could offer my firstborn, Mr. Allen?" 

~*~

Dinner that night was not so much the grand party James had been half-expecting. Instead, after his first meeting with Eva's father, he had been escorted up to his room by one of the house servants. It was not, in fact, anywhere near Eva's own. He had a sneaking suspicion that was entirely on purpose. Still, it was spacious and airy, the big four poster comfortable, and the same tall windows that graced the rest of the house. He'd been given nothing more than instructions to change for dinner; but thankfully, Eva had told him what that entailed. 

When he descended again into the main house, he was ushered into one of the sitting rooms. Eva looked up, laughing, blue eyes bright and sparkling from a conversation with someone he could only assume was her younger sister Hazel. He stopped in the threshold, a shy smile on his lips. She always looked perfect, to him, but now in an elegantly draped dress of silvery gray, she looked even more beautiful. She rose to meet him, the gown swirling just above her ankles; mesmerized, he leaned into the kiss she placed chastely on his cheek. 

"You should relax, sugar," she murmured, surreptitiously squeezing his hand. "You look fantastic~" She turned, eyes bright, engaging as ever. James watched contently as she worked the room the same way she did The Garden. Making each person within feel as though they might be the most important in Eva's eyes. Her father, mother, younger sister, and several cousins were in attendance already, but the flurry of names and faces was soon overwhelming. They were ten for dinner, with the rest coming in for the rehearsal the next night, and the wedding on Sunday afternoon. He managed at least to start pairing the correct names with the right faces by the time Simmons arrived to announce dinner. 

~*~

All during the meal, Eva kept finding a way to brush his hand with hers, to nudge him gently under the table during times when the conversation flowed around them- Short smiles and knowing looks when no one else was watching. It helped keep him grounded as he answered questions about his Grandfather, what Eva had agreed was good for her family to know of his; all carefully curated to give the best impression possible. Doubtless Sedgewick recognized the obfuscation for what it was, but during the two hours and seven courses, not including dessert taken out on the veranda, not a lie passed his lips. 

Eva caught him on the stairs to his room, and pushed him into an alcove and gripped his tie lightly in her hand.  
"You did real well tonight, sugar," she whispered, before tugging him down by the silk to kiss him again, thoroughly. "I'm real proud of you, honey," She kissed him once more, sweetly, before releasing him. "Sweet dreams, James." He sank back against the wall, watching her go as he lifted a hand to his lips, swollen and a little bruised.  
"....G'night, Eva."   
 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry guys, I got a bad sore throat and weird flu symptoms and I don't know what's up- So if this chapter is a lil fucky, I'm sorry, I'll fix it later if I remember.
> 
> If you haven't guessed by now, the chapter headings are the lyrics of the French song La Vie En Rose. Depending on how they're broken up, we've got 5-6 more chapters of this fuckin thing, and I still don't quite know how I'm going to wrap it up or if there'll be an epilogue or what. I'm flying by the seat of my pants with this fic, and I have no idea where it'll end up~ 
> 
> For the person who pointed it out on my tumblr, yes Eva was being terribly hypocritical about her mother's drinking. But Eva tends to be a social drinker who doesn't get sloppy; and her mother drinks for.... Other Reasons. The difference is minute, but it makes sense to the character. Guess who isn't a perfect human? Literally anyone~ :D

_Sing From Above_

 

The next morning dawned grey and cool, misting rain coming down in a slow, steady outpouring. James woke earlier than most of the household and dressed in the half-light. The ghost of the sun behind the clouds turned the airy room into something otherworldly, a mirage of the easy sort of life he'd never quite grasped. Like smoke through his fingers, it never seemed to materialize in quite the way he'd hoped. Never, that is, until his grandfather's letter on his 19th birthday, inviting him to New York. New doors had opened, and the elegant if tense life his grandfather led opened to him too. Opportunity knocked for those with the right names and family connections. Two years in, there was Eva; the bright and shining presence he'd never have dared to approach under other circumstances. _And yet..._

He leaned against the heavy, hand-carved wardrobe, unwilling to dispel his thoughts so easily and run downstairs to the gracious and mildly disapproving smiles of Eva's family. He fiddled with his cuff links, the heavy silver rounds a Christmas gift from Eva. He smiled fondly, rubbing one until it gleamed brightly with a thumb.   
"What've you gone and got me into," he mumbled, lifting his gaze to the gauze-curtained window. Outside, the gardener was calling to a gamboling dog; the house coming to life slowly but surely around him. James sighed, squaring his shoulders as he crossed to the door. No sense putting it all off.

~*~

Eva had never been known as an early riser. Long nights had only been made longer by her career in jazz clubs and lounges across the city tended to give rise to late mornings if not early afternoons. Yet, somehow, she'd not found it easy to sleep without James a sure and solid presence beside her. She rose when the sun was just beginning to come over the far horizon. She slipped quickly into a pale peach confection and then quietly out the door and into the hall. Outside, she could hear the barking of Daisy, the gardener's dog, and decided discretion was the much better part of valor. 

She slipped like a ghost through the still mostly-silent house and out through the gardens at the back of the house. The mist did little to deter her, merely kicking off her satin shoes and picking them up as she ran through the damp grass towards the boathouse. 

~*~

James paused on the stair case, a flash of pink disappearing around the corner arresting his attention. He ran after, footsteps muffled in the thick carpets, catching only the well-known black curls of his lover. He watched her disappear across the lawn, headed for the two-story green and white building set against the water. He didn't stop to think twice, just followed.

~*~

The boathouse was well-maintained, if mostly unlit. Though the main house had already been wired for electricity, the boathouse had not. Eva pushed in the door with her hip, closing it easily behind her. The small boats were kept here, the family's yacht kept and maintained elsewhere. She roamed among them, heading for the stairs and the attached living area. It was lighter here, even with the windows covered in heavy cotton curtains of navy blue. She pulled the sheets from the low couch and piled them in a corner, tugging the curtains from the windows facing the water, and sat, slowly to watch the effects of the dawn. 

Downstairs, she heard the click of the latch and the door shutting. She sat up, alarmed, before James' familiar voice carried up the stairs.   
"Eva-?" His footsteps sounded on the stair, and then, there he was like the answer to an unspoken prayer. Hands running through hair made damp by the rain, eyes full of concern. She crossed the wooden floor to his side, taking his hand silently and pressing it to her heart. There was hardly a word said between them after that. Just his hands moving across her skin, down her back to pull her close; Eva pulling at his tie to drag him down for a hot, searching kiss. 

James only pulled away for a moment, caressing her cheek; she leaned into the heat of his touch, desperately seeking more as the chill began to set in.  
"You're sure-" She only kissed him again, before nodding against his shoulder.  
"I'm sure. Please, James?" He tugged her tightly against his body, and she knew he understood. Everything she'd been missing, he'd been missing too. From the moment they'd stepped into her family's home, they'd been constrained by the expectations laid on them. Hadn't shared so much as a proper kiss, other than what she'd pressed on him before retreating to her childhood bedroom. And now, with him in her arms where he belonged, where everything felt right at last, _at last_ \- "Whatever you wish, darling, just... touch me?"  
"Alright, Eva... alright. I'm here-" 

~*~

The world dissolved around them in a flurry of touch, the feel of skin on skin and panting, aching breath. Eyes drifting shut as lips dragged across flesh, teeth sinking in, hands grasping for a sure hold. James buried his face against her, pressing kisses desperately across her collarbone as Eva fumbled desperately for the clasps holding her dress closed at the back. When she was finally bared to him, he couldn't help himself. Cupping pale flesh lightly in his hands he worshiped her with his mouth, laving attention on easy pale dusky rose nipple and leaving warm red marks along the underside of each warm breast. 

Eva moved against him slowly, hands dragging through his hair, holding him close against her. She could more than feel the evidence of his desire, and had every intention of making sure he found his fulfillment in this as well. Her pulse was racing in her ears, no sound but the pounding drum of her heart and the whispers of James' breath. He rocked against her, hips seeking hers. She moaned, head falling back as his teeth sank into her shoulder, holding her tightly against his body.  
"James, darling, don't stop-" she begged, nails digging into his shoulders, picking up the pace of their slow grinding need. "Don't stop-" She bit off the last, stifling a cry of pleasure.   
Beneath her, James' growl was all the answer she required.

~*~

When they finally put themselves back together, it was nearing 8:30. Their hands brushed the other's as they dressed, retrieving clothing and smoothing hair after their romp. Shy eyes and smiles in the rising light. Eva paused on the stair, James following right behind, her hand lifting to his chest. She rose up on her toes, to kiss his jaw, nuzzling lightly against the light stubble.   
"You know you're the best damn thing that ever happened to me, don't you, Sugar....?" She pulled away, touching his lips lightly with her fingertips. "No, don't say anything. I just need you to know, James. I...love you." She kissed him swiftly, and disappeared down the stairs. 

James sagged against the wall, hand lifting to his lips, shell shocked; the door's closing echoing in the empty boathouse. 

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FIXED FIXED FIXED~ You're welcome and I'm back!!

_Everyday Words_

 

 

Eva flew back across the wet lawn, bits of green clinging to her soles, as the last of the rain finally, mercifully, let up. The rising run peeked through the clouds, and the young heiress rubbed at her eyes unable to tell if it was the sudden light or the emotional flight from the edge of the bay that had caused the sudden burn of tears. She squared her shoulders and smoothed her skirts over her legs, wiping her feet on the doormat when she'd reached the veranda. She dropped her shoes to the wooden deck and wiggled back into her shoes before she could go back for James, or put on a cheery face for her family.  She could just hear the servants getting breakfast together as she crept through the door into the lounge, the distant clink of silver and the clatter of plates being set out in the dining room making her sigh with relief. Time enough yet to pull herself together, to make some sort of a plan.

She dropped onto one of the couches in a daze, letting the tears fall. How on earth had things gotten to this point? And what on earth was she going to do about James?

_~*~_

James didn't last long after Eva fled the boathouse, setting off after her with a fierce, grim sort of determination. Feeling in no small way played for a fool, and trifled with into the bargain! He'd been more than content to allow Eva to take the lead, happy even. But he'd thought he'd been in love with her alone, submitting himself to her whims and the desire of the moment as some sort of fling or flavor of the moment. That is, up until their relationship had lasted for a few months, and he'd sort of gotten used to having her around, to being hers. _It's not that she said it, it's that you just don't say something like that without giving a fellow some warning!_  He decided, hands clenching at his side, fingers twitching. _I might have done something about it, if only she'd said something sooner!_ He took the stairs two at a time on the way out, letting the door swing shut hard behind him as he took off across the lawn in pursuit. He could see the flash of her dress against the brilliant, rain-soaked green of the lawn, and his eyes narrowed. _They were going to have a talk if it was the last thing he did in this life._

_~*~_

Eva sat gingerly on the edge of the couch, face in her hands. Whatever  _was_  she thinking, inciting James like that, in her father's house no less? Lucky for her it'd been across the yard, in a place few of her family cared to visit except when the cousins were at home. As it was, even if they'd seemed to get away with it all right, she resolutely decided there'd be no more such rendezvous. The last thing they needed was to get her father up in arms, or even forbid Eva from seeing him again. _Not that it'd stop me_ , she mused, smoothing her hair back carefully and adjusting a few pins.  _Daddy can think what he likes about us, it won't keep me from seeing who I'm going to see, and doing what I aim to do!_ She rolled her shoulders before straightening, resolute, and rose to her feet just as James appeared in the doorway to the veranda, looking damp and a bit winded. She managed a weak smile, hands clenching in her lap, twisting around her handkerchief, brilliant white against the soft peach of her dress.

"Oh! Hello, James-" She half-rose and he huffed, a half-mad laugh escaping his lips, eyes bright and wide as he stared at her in consternation. Eva sat abruptly, the little twinge of fear pressing her back against the cushions.  
"Is  _that_  all you've got to say to me?" He strode across the floor, catching her hand and pulling her to her feet. "Come here, we're going to _talk_ , damn you-" Eva stumbled a little in the doorway as he led her back out into the morning air, catching herself against the side of the house. She lifted a hand to forestall any further argument and shook her head.  
"Now, James, don't go getting ideas! I only said that to-" His hand closed gently over her mouth, his eyes flashing fire as he stared down at her.

" _Oh no you don't_ ," He contended, eyes narrowing as he looked down at her. " _You_  dragged me up here to meet your family, _you_ told me all sorts of things on the drive, and we've been seeing each other for months now. I _never_ expected any of this, never _asked_ you to do any of it, and I've never asked you about your feelings for me. Never saw the need, but I also didn't see the point in it. You've always been free to make your own decisions and go your own way- so when you told me you were bringing me here, I didn't see the sense in arguing. I've followed your lead the whole way since _you_ decided I was good enough to keep around. I'm not arguing that, and I won't, either-" His hand fell away and he dragged it through his hair, half-turning from her, trying to gain his breath back. "But damn it all, Eva, springing something like that on me, after... after everything- I thought. I don't rightly know WHAT I thought," he admitted ruefully.

Eva pressed back against the wall of the house, staring up at him with wide blue eyes.   
"James-" He smiled briefly, vanishing before it could reach beyond his mouth.  
"No, you've got to let me finish. I'll never get it out if you don't, and you know it." He swallowed hard, not quite meeting her eyes, "You can't just tell a guy you love him like that, and then rush off without a word more said-" Eva had the good grace to blush, ducking her head. "I'm willing to keep on following your lead if you like it so much, but you can't have it all your own way either. I'm not just a boy to fall prey to your charms and keep no opinions of my own. I'm not a dog on a leash, not even for you, Eva." He reached for her, lifting her chin, meeting her gaze defiantly. "I let you do those things.... I don't quite know why. I don't mind it, and, well. Well, I rather liked a lot of it. I don't mind letting you be the one to take control, if it's what pleases you...." He trailed off, thumb brushing her full lower lip. "I rather like pleasing you," he admitted softly. "But my life can't be all about it, Eva. I've got to consider my future, and as much as I've loved following you around this summer, darling, there's more to life than parties and night clubs." 

Eva pressed into the touch, eyes fluttering shut as she lifted her hands to his chest.   
"James, you know I'd never really harm you, I've never meant to do it, if I have-" She looked up at him, all innocence and injured vulnerability. James laughed, a dry, rough, humorless laugh.  
"That's the devil of it, Eva, I know you didn't." It didn't change anything, and they both knew it. Intention rarely counts for much, not when feelings are involved especially. James pulled away, releasing her completely, and she wasn't sure if the sudden aching loss was from the lack of his hands on her, or the way he was speaking to her.   
"You know I was speaking to your father. He told me right out that he's not sure of me, if it wouldn't be better for your mother to just marry you off to some Vanderbilt, or a Gardner," He laughed, strangled. "I know it. God, don't I _know_ he's right about me. A kid out of some backwater state without much to his name except the generosity of my grandfather and a borrowed family name? What's a guy like me doing with a lady like you? Practically royalty out here and you know it, you know it, Eva. I wish I didn't care so much, that this was all just a fling and you'd discard me like every other man you've dallied with, and don't think I don't know about them. That band of yours," his gaze was as pained as his smile, "they're not so circumspect and tight-lipped as you'd think. I knew I wasn't the first, how could I be? But any of them would have been a better fit with...all this," he waved vaguely at the house and Eva's heart squeezed in her chest, tears prickling at her eyes as she listened, silent as he'd asked.

"The trouble of it is, I _do_ care. I've cared for you since that first night, you know. Sat at the bar, watching you on stage... the way you move, the way you sing, who wouldn't- couldn't, fall for you? Half the men in that place fancied themselves in love with you, you know, and half of them would have spoken if they didn't already have girls of their own. You've just got that sort of presence, the sort that people...fall in love with," Eva blushed, uncertain whether that was quite the compliment it seemed. "But, the more I got to know you, the more you talked to me, hung around, let me keep close to you, the more I realized... there's the girl on stage and the lady behind the clothes and the jewels. You're twice the lady you let on you are, Eva, and god, what wouldn't I do to have known, before now, that you felt that way! I thought.... I thought I was just the last in the string, you know," His voice broke and Eva's heart felt like it was breaking with it.

"I don't know why you kept it to yourself, and maybe you didn't. Maybe... maybe you realized it just this morning. But the thing of it is, I've loved you for so long, and thought I loved alone." He took her hand, shivering a little in the cool morning air. "That's hard on a man, not knowing if he should speak or not, thinking if he does he'll have to let you go. That you're not serious. Well. I'm serious about you, Eva, deadly serious. I talked to my Grandfather, and I start up full time at the bank in September. I won't be as free as I've been, and there will be a lot more riding on my work. I've had a few years learning the business, but now it's time I started pulling my own weight. For real, without my Grandfather there standing over my shoulder. I'd like... I want- well." He smiled briefly, "Maybe I won't tell you. But I want you to know, Eva. My life isn't going to be all golden sunbursts and marble halls, and it's not all crystal and champagne with footlights and...and jazz bands. My future isn't going to look quite like this house, and people like you're used to but... you're welcome in it, if you'd care to be." He bent over her hand, kissing the back of it lightly. "Just... think about it, won't you? I'm not going to ask you, not here and not now. It's your cousin's big day, and I'd hate to spoil it by being so crass as all that. So, just think about it, and... and if you'd like to stay, to be with me like that, well. I'll ask you. When I can." 

He dropped her hand, and stepped through the door, and Eva didn't know whether to be grateful or hurt that he didn't look back. Voices came from indoors, her family welcoming him just as she'd hoped they'd do. Only now, it seemed sort of tainted by the hurt that had gone before. She wiped gently at her eyes, checking her appearance in the window as best she could, before following him inside. Nothing for it but to put on a brave face, and do as he'd asked. To think about it, and to be as bright and gay as she could be for the sake of her cousin and her family. Time enough to think of the future when this was over, she hoped.

  
  


 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They got to the estate on Friday, their sexscapade was Saturday morning, and now it's Saturday afternoon. Saturday night is the rehearsal, the wedding is Sunday, and the family will pack it in on Monday~ Sorry if that was unclear! 
> 
>  
> 
> Also, outfits taken from here: https://i.pinimg.com/736x/86/33/3d/86333d30e580f91d6df343759289e7e0--mystery-tv-series-tennis-gear.jpg The tennis outfits from Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries, the Hon Ms Phryne Fisher and Inspector Jack Robinson~

_To Turn Into Love Songs_

 

James and Eva kept a careful distance from each other for most of the day. Throughout the relatively quiet breakfast, the arrival of more friends and family members throughout the morning and into the afternoon as the house rang with happy voices and the click of silk heels and leather soles on marble floors. More often than not, James found himself on the outside, unwilling to push in among the cultured, shining crowd of Eva's relations. Eva was stunning, just the same as always. Overseeing room arrangements and the extra staff hired on for the occasion. She flitted through the Estate like some bejeweled bird, all glowing skin and sparkling eyes. And, when her gaze caught his, he couldn't deny that his heart skipped beats.   
_If only she'd been honest with him from the beginning! If only he'd spoken to her sooner! If only..._ but those sorts of thoughts would get him nowhere fast. They needed to talk, but in all the crush of human bodies and the whirlwind of food, clothing, setting up the pavilion on the lawn for the reception on Saturday and the impromptu tennis matches that followed, there was hardly time. So he waited, and suffered in silence for an opportune moment to steal her away.

~*~

Eva watched him through the day. Hovering just out of reach, beyond her grasp. She wanted nothing more than to pull him close and kiss him thoroughly, to stake her claim in front of everyone to the sweet boy she'd gone and pushed too far. She knew she'd done wrong, that she'd assumed more control than they'd agreed on; and that went against the rules of their game. He might answer to her, belong to her, but he wasn't HERS. She didn't own him, not really. And not like _that_. She knew some people who took it that far, but somehow. Somehow she just couldn't see her James that way. He was too bright and giving, too good natured and willing, sparked too brightly, for her to tie him down that far.   
She'd wanted to protect him, to give him everything her bright and shining world could offer, and she might have blown the whole thing to hell if she couldn't apologize for her assumptions. For thinking he'd be content to just sail on under her implications, instead of talking to him face to face, like a Lady and a Dominant should treat a man who'd been nothing but genuine to her. 

So she moved through the day, her pride sore and her honour needling her painfully as she watched him smile politely and move untouched through the horde of her cultured, world-weary family who didn't know what sort of treasure they had in their midst.

~*~

The distance between them remained through lunch, when Eva found her moment and cornered him at one of end of the large, very white pavilion set out on the lawn. While some of her cousins played tennis in equally bleached and starched ensembles, the older set seemed content to sit about with champagne and finger sandwiches and artful little nibbles the chefs had prepared. She passed her half-empty glass to a passing footman with a tray, and sidled up to him, where he stood leaning against one of the sturdy tent posts. He startled at her sudden appearance at his elbow, an awkward smile in place. He started to speak and she shook her head, worrying at her lower lip with white teeth. 

  
"Well... fancy meeting you here," she tried, smoothing the skirts of her modest linen ensemble, a half smile teasing at her lips that did not reach her eyes. "I thought perhaps... after this morning, we should talk. I mean, really,"  
"Evelyn! Don't forget, we need you this evening! Photos, you know~" She waved briefly to a passing Aunt; he thought the lady in grey silk was an Aunt; and Eva looked up at him with regret.  
"I behaved rather badly, I think, James, and you're right. You did deserve better-" James exhaled quietly, catching her hand and brushing a kiss across the back chastely; _it takes a lot of guts for a girl like her to apologize-_ he thought to himself, only just barely not opening his mouth to call her 'Miss' again. _Maybe.... Maybe_ s _he deserved better too. She's not the only one who should have spoken up about her feelings,_ he decided.  
"Of course, Eva," he said softly, "Wherever you like, I'll come and find you." She smiled, for real this time, eyes bright with hope.   
"The library, after lunch?" She offered, "When the servants have started to clear away, come inside and find me... love."

~*~

The door to the library swung open on silent hinges, and James found Eva sitting quietly by herself near the window. He approached cautiously, tugging at his tie, still dressed in the "uniform" of white pants and shirt, with tie and sweater vest limned in blue and gold.   
"Eva?" she turned, her cropped hair catching the light in a way that nearly made him lose his breath. She was always a vision... and god help him, he loved her. She half rose to meet him, before biting her lip and sinking back down on the couch and inviting him close.   
"So... we should talk, sugar."

~*~

 As they talked out their feelings, explained when they'd first felt the stirrings of emotion beyond mere "like" and "attraction," they inched closer on the couch. Soon enough, they were holding hands as James blushed his way through their first scene, how it felt to be under her control. How desperate he was to make her happy, to please and provide whatever she desired from him. Eva, to her credit, accepted his fervor with grace, and spoke softly to him, carefully, of how his submission made her happy; and how her mistake was to assume more control over their future than he'd strictly offered. By the time they'd apologized to each other, and started over, they'd been sitting together nearly an hour. 

"So, the truth of it's like this, Eva. I care about you, I love you, and I'd do whatever it takes to make you happy with me. You know my position at the bank is stable, and my grandfather wants me to follow in his footsteps-  I _can_ provide for you. And you're the heiress, you've only got sisters, and well. I know your mother wanted more for you, but I adore you, more than any man could, I think.... and I want you in my life. Being near you, seeing you, it makes me want to be a better man. And you know I've changed for you-" 

~*~

"-Wick, would you mind terribly? I know you've got to get Charles the paperwork for our little wedding present, but you know how mother hates to be kept waiting," Alexandra practically simpered up at her husband, and he just nodded agreeably, meanwhile the stress of the wedding was beginning to grate. He kissed his wife's hand, and carefully extricated himself from her.  
"I'll only be a minute, darling, just allow me to fetch the papers and I'll meet you and your mother on the terrace." Alexandra pouted for the amusement of her sister, the Aunt in grey silk, and the two women tittered as they went back to some prior conversation. For his part, Sedgewick moved quickly down the hall, intent on retrieving the paperwork for the yacht they were passing on to the bride and groom, when he heard his daughter's voice coming from the library. He paused, waiting at the cracked door to hear-

~*~

Eva slid a little closer on the velvet and rosewood couch, laying her hand lightly across his.   
"I know you've changed for me, James. You were shy as anything when we first met, sugar, and I really have loved watching you come into your own." James blushed, and ducked his head, inhaling quickly as she forestalled any arguments by quickly jumping back in. "But you were sweet;  _so_ sweet love, really; and genteel when we met, and you've never lost that, not at all... and I'm _glad_ you haven't. It's nice to be around you, you don't expect things, even now, and that's... _that's_ why I love you." She squeezed his hand, and in the hallway, Sedgewick lowered his hand; intent on seeing how this played out.

James only smiled up at her, shy in the face of so many compliments so quickly, but he forged on ahead in spite of it. How could he not, faced with the reality of how she loved him?  
"So, you know, I'll be inheriting the house in town when my Grandfather passes. He's already said my father isn't much, ever since he married mum and moved to the middle of nowhere." He squeezed her hand, taking courage from even that light, gentle caress. "And my aunt likes me well enough, enough to introduce me to her side of the family who's real connected with the west coast types, and she's got more family in England." He looked at her, eyes serious, and Wick waited patiently to hear him out. He hoped that Eva would do the same.

"I'm not a nobody, Eva, even if I don't measure up, stacked against all this," he waved a hand at the library, indicating the house around them in all its grandeur. "I know where I stand. And I'm not asking you, I won't. Not until your father and I... not unless he approves of me. I won't put you in the position to choose. I know I should have spoken sooner, let you know what I want from this, from us. But you're not a fling for me, not just a summer romance to leave as soon as it's time to get to work again. I want to put in the time, with you, together, to build something that will _last._ I want to live my life knowing that you love me as much as I love you, and that I can come home to you, every day. I want to hold you when you cry, and care for you when you're ill, and share whatever life brings-" He lifted a gentle hand and pressed it to her lips, before brushing the tear from her cheek. "Don't. Don't answer now, please. Like I said this morning, it's your cousin's day, and I won't spoil it by intruding on their happiness with our own. But... If you will, consider me. If you can."

He kissed her hand, and rose, smiling softly and Eva sat there, still a little stunned by his little speech, but she nodded and James moved for the door. In the hallway, Sedgewick backed up, only the Persian runner keeping his shoes from making noise against the hardwood. He stood, impassive, as James entered the hall, leaving Eva to the library on her own. He coughed, quietly, and James jumped a little, startled.  
"Oh! Mr Seymour, Sir! Your daughter-" Sedgewick merely raised a brow and hummed.  
"I've got to fetch something from the library Mr Allen; and then I ought to see to my wife and mother in law about our little wedding present and some minor details about the wedding. But I think perhaps it's time we had another talk, you and I." He smiled, a flash of white teeth in the sunny hall. "About my daughter's future." James breathed a quick sigh of relief and nodded, offering his hand.  
"Of course Sir, at your convenience. I'm at your service, Sir." Sedgewick nodded, shaking it firmly.  
"As it should be. This evening then, Mr Allen."

As Sedgewick entered the library, James could faintly hear him greeting his daughter and Eva's soft response. He leaned against the wall, breathing deep. Her father knew, and what's more, he might even approve _. So much for being a terrible day... He might just get the girl of his dreams after all!_


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more added to this chapter later. I had an injury tonight that's got me on leftover painkillers from surgery. I'm going to be just fine, but I'm exhausted.... so have this teaser of what's to come, and enjoy it <3

_Give Your Heart And Soul To Me_

 

The rehearsal went off without a hitch... unless you count the tiny tot of a flower girl refusing to throw her petals, and instead clutching her little white basket to her chest all the way down the aisle. After dinner, when the family was seated around the large extended table and dessert had just been served, Sedgewick rose to his feet and raised a glass. The room fell silent, and he addressed the bride and groom. 

"If you had asked me three years ago which of the girls would be married first, I wouldn't have told you Mary." A few cousins tittered and the stern-faced Aunt in grey gave one a withering glare in the direction of the offenders. "I thought for certain it would have been _one_ of my brother's girls, but not our sweet, serious Mary. We were all a little surprised and delighted when she found Charles, and I know my brother couldn't have been prouder at her choice of partners. I know, were he still with us, that he would have something splendid to add to the occasion. As it is, Mary, Charles, you have my congratulations, and my blessing. As you had his. To the happy couple!" Guests stood and James found himself standing too, saluting the bridal couple with questions racing. 

Eva had never mentioned an uncle passing. _How then...?_ Not that it mattered now, he supposed. But something that momentous might have been discussed at least! Eva caught his eye across the table from him and smiled a little sheepishly as the group sat back down and started in on the slightly-melted sherbet.  
"My uncle died in a hunting accident, darling. It wasn't the horses fault. You know thoroughbreds will spook at just anything, really, and he wasn't expecting the groom to be coming with the barrow just then past the paddock. He struck his head, and never woke up." She swirled the silver spoon around the little crystal dish, and managed a wry smile. "Charles postponed the wedding out of respect to Mary's feelings, and her mother's. But they love each other dearly, and it's been just over a year now. More than time for them to set up their own home, and be together. They deserve each other."

James had to agree. He'd seen the looks the couple gave each other, the lingering glances when they thought no one else was looking. Charles was a man _besotted_ with his bride, who loved her dearly, and looked after her with tender care and adoration. Mary, for her part, sent just as many looks in his direction and just as many kind words to say about her fiance. James colored a little, and bowed his head.   
"I'm terribly sorry, Eva, I didn't know. But all the same, I'm glad they're getting married now. You're right. You're only young once, and it's clear to anyone how much they love each other. More than time." The aunt in grey, whom Eva had told him was named Rose, nudged him with a sly smile.   
"So then young man, when's the next wedding taking place then, eh? You talked to the old battleax about our Evelyn yet?" James wanted to melt through the floor, Eva's light laughter ringing in his ears as she set her Aunt straight about timing and the etiquette of these things. 

" _REALLY_ Aunt Rose! This is Mary's big day we're talking about, have some respect for the poor dear's feelings. I won't be upstaging my own cousin with any such thing-" James, thankfully, did not have long to wait for his rescue. Sedgewick stood behind his chair, and motioned to him to follow. He tried not to notice the Aunt's knowing smile, and Eva's blush.  
  
~*~

 


End file.
